


From Zero to Hero

by bipabrena



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bertholdt deserves love and attention so I'm giving it to him, Bertl-centered, But there will be fluff, F/F, F/M, Gen, He was a wasted character with immense potential, I don't know how long this fic will be, smut etc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:07:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipabrena/pseuds/bipabrena
Summary: The SNK story told from Bertholdt's eyes--from his early days as a Warrior in Marley up to the point of his betrayal. How would events play out if Bertholdt developed to be a more dominant, determined Warrior rather than a meek and submissive one? He has circumstances of his own, and he will stop at nothing to achieve his dream of going back home to the ones he loves.I'll come up with a better summary soon. Oh, and there might be illustrations in this fic every now and then.





	From Zero to Hero

**Author's Note:**

> For the longest time, I've wanted a fan-fiction centered around Bertholdt and the story being told from his perspective. I haven't found any, so I decided to make my own. I think he was completely wasted by Isayama and I want to change that in my own way. I'm sick of the "Bertholdt stutters every sentence and is embarrassed by his own existence" narrative. This fic will be canon compliant, but I will change a couple of things from certain arcs, like the Female Titan one.
> 
> Also, Pieck doesn't have a canon surname yet, so I chose a random one.
> 
> I really hope you give this a chance. Thank you!

The commanding officers sat around the oval table, the room echoing with the sounds of chairs scraping and pages flipping.

"Alright," the eldest looking man in the room began. "we're all here. And on schedule too, as expected."

Perhaps eldest wasn't the right word. He wasn't young, but neither was he too old. He'd be at least forty, but his face wasn't filled with wrinkles so much because of his age, but because he bore the expression of a man that simply had seen too much. Hardened was the word, perhaps?

"You all know the drill," he sighed, speaking mechanically. "we're here for the final examination of the Warrior candidates to begin the operation for Paradis Island."

With everyone settled in, the only noise, or rather lack thereof, that accompanied the man's voice was receptive silence.

"Magath," he addressed one of the men in the room. "before we read the reports, why don't you preface for us?"

The man named Magath, one of the overseers for the Warrior program, cleared his throat.

"Yes, thank you, Commander." He sat straight, folding his hands on the table. "If you would all be so kind, please turn to page three."

The sound of pages flipping momentarily echoed in the room.

"By a hefty process of observation and thereby elimination, we have reduced the list of twenty-one candidates to seven. Their names are Reiner Braun, Pieck Hefler, Bertolt Hoover, Marcel Galliard, Annie Leonhart and Zeke Yeager."

The commander curled his index finger around his mouth, holding his chin with his thumb, carefully analysing every Warrior, their photograph and listed qualities.

"Braun?" an officer spoke up before Magath could continue. "Braun was picked over the younger Galliard?"

"Yes," Magath averted his gaze momentarily. "it might appear as an unwise decision, but I assure you it's in Marley's best interests."

The officer rose an eyebrow, as though asking him to elaborate.

"We--"

"Irrelevant," the Commander chimed in. "I want you to walk us through the report in order. I don't want you to tell me why you picked Braun over Galliard, I want you to explain why you picked Braun, as with every other candidate, and how they excelled with their Titan. The other can wait."

The officer felt mildly irritated, but didn't show it.

"My apologies. I'll address three things for every candidate. First," Magath rose his index finger. "their strengths and flaws. Secondly," he rose his middle finger. "why we picked them. And lastly," he rose his thumb "their dominion over their respective Titan."

"Braun isn't particularly good at anything. He didn't excel at any of the tests, physical or academic, but he holds great loyalty and a will that matches no other. He has been proven to go to extreme lengths in order to carry out his orders. He was given the Armoured Titan because of this. Think of the Armoured as the mindless brawn of the bunch--all he has to do is use his body as a shield for his comrades. It would be foolish to not include a Warrior as fervently loyal as him."

"Pieck Hefler is physically weak, but holds great stamina and endurance. However, her sharp brain is the most treasured commodity she has to offer. From the program of twenty-one, she is the second smartest, and is highly regarded by her comrades. Her performance as the Cart Titan has been spectacular, and shares excellent chemistry with her partner, the Beast Titan, whom I'll address shortly."

Magath cleared his throat.

"Bertolt Hoover."

The Commander fixated his eyes on Magath, having heard of the boy.

"He has mastered every skill that's been taught, and has exceedingly high potential. However, his personality is too docile, and is often afraid to speak up. Still, this does not hinder him from carrying out orders. He stood out from his comrades for having mastered his Titan, the Colossal, instantly and with no difficulty."

 _How ironic, for the Colossal's user to be docile,_ the Commander almost smirked.

"Marcel Galliard is gifted physically, excelling in both strength and endurance, and has shown outstanding leadership skills. He works well in teams, and there isn't anything he's particularly deficient at. His performance as the Jaw Titan has appeased all expectations."

"Annie Leonhart. Her hand-to-hand combat skills are absolutely remarkable. She has the perfect balance between strength and speed, and efficiently implements crystallisation in her Female-form Titan along with her techniques. She has been shown to be reticent and reluctant to work in teams, and, like Hoover, is best at following orders rather than making them, but will regardless do whatever is necessary to accomplish her mission."

"Lastly, Zeke Yeager. As most of you must be aware of, he is regarded as the prodigy child. He excels at every single thing that's been asked of him with little to no difficulty, and is highly respected by all of his comrades, while commended by his superiors. He is, put simply, an unprecedented talent in Marley's history."

The Commander rose a brow, noting something interesting in the report. "He can speak?"

"Yes," Magath nodded. "he is the only one capable of speaking perfectly while in Titan form. The Jaw can form words, but is only capable of slurred speech."

"Yeager, huh?" the Commander muttered to himself.

"After their recent success at destroying the enemy nation of Kanem, we've appointed Yeager as the Captain. For the Paradis operation, the Armoured, Colossal, Female and Jaw will be sent to retake the Founder, while the Beast and Cart stay here to threaten enemy nations."

"You're not sending the Captain to the main operation?" the Commander questioned.

"No, we believe Yeager is best suited here. In case we suffer an attack or need to threaten an enemy nation, we will definitely need him. The basic idea is that the Jaw and Female attract mindless Titans, the Colossal will break down the outer Wall, which will grant both the mindless and Armoured access inside. In midst of the panic, Braun will be able to sneak in and bring down the inner Wall, while the other three blend in amongst the crowd. After that, it's up to them."

There was nothing but silence. Magath swallowed slowly and quietly, observing the Commander.

"While I'm intrigued by Hoover and have heard of his talent, I am still concerned. You say he is not hindered from carrying out orders despite his docile demeanor, while simultaneously admitting he is afraid to speak up. If the four happen to have a disagreement, you have Leonhart, who you claimed is reluctant to work in teams, Braun, who is essentially the all brawn-no brain of the group, and Hoover, who is docile and quiet. That leaves Galliard as the only one capable to call the shots."

"Yes, you're absolutely right, sir, which is why Galliard has been appointed as the--"

"But what if Galliard makes the wrong call? He will have no one to challenge him. You are leaving the most brilliant Warriors with the best chemistry and teamwork outside the most important operation. You say you leave Hefler and Yeager here to protect Marley from threatening nations or attack them, when we have enough firepower as it is and, in any case, the Armoured would be best to defend because of his performance as a shield."

"Sir, I completely understand, but besides the Colossal, the Armoured is the only one capable of--"

"Bringing the Walls down, yes? So, you're sending two Titan-shifters with Wall breaking abilities, one which would serve best as Marley's shield if your intention is to threaten enemy nations?"

Magath's mouth opened and closed like a fish's, attempting to provide an eloquent answer.

"Since we're voicing our concerns, and if it is okay with you, Commander, I'd like to know why Braun was picked over the younger Galliard. I'm looking at the reports from the last meeting, back when the program was downed to fourteen candidates, and Braun was deficient in everything. The only test he excelled at was the written test where he, I quote, _impressed the higher-ups with his overwhelming loyalty_."

"I must agree," another officer chimed in. "why has such a weak candidate been given one of the Titans we worked so hard to obtain?"

Whispers echoed in the room, the officers already thinking this was a failed operation.

"This is a problem, Magath," the Commander interlaced his fingers, resting his chin on them. "The best you can say about Braun is that he's stoic. This decision reeks of negligence."

Magath swallowed slowly. He took a deep breath, quickly assembling his thoughts.

"Prior to the Kanem Operation, there were many other conflicts the Warriors participated in. The Younger Galliard, Porco, was adept at most of the skills that were taught, but reports from Hoover and the older Galliard painted him as hot-headed and arrogant. Braun wasn't as skilled, but he was willing to cooperate and add whatever he could to the table, while Porco spent most of the time arguing and losing his temper. While he might be talented, his abrasive personality might hinder the operation and this is not a risk we wanted to take. Furthermore," he eyed everyone in the room with determination "while grades are important, real-life experience is different, and not every Warrior will behave accordingly to their skills or grades in a real-life situation, particularly under pressure. A top candidate might be talented in all fields but break under pressure, while a lower one might not be as skilled but excel in the field. This is something we took in consideration when choosing Braun over Galliard."

Much silence brimmed the room for perhaps too long.

"I see," the Commander squinted. "If these Warriors are willing to push their personalities and differences aside in order to step up to the mission, I have no reason to object. I still believe Yeager and Hefler shouldn't stay out of the operation, but I'll trust the Board's judgment, and that includes you, Magath."

Magath exhaled deeply and quietly in relief.

"Does anyone have any other concerns?" the Commander asked.

While some officers still had doubts, particularly about how Reiner managed to be on the top eight, and the possibility Marcel was attempting to protect his brother, they chose to leave it at that, leaving the Commander with the last word.

"Then you're dismissed."

Everyone stood to leave, chairs scraping the floor, but the Commander called Magath's name, stopping him in his tracks. He waited for the room to empty.

"Hoover and Yeager--I'd like to meet these two."

Magath's eyes widened. "Of course, sir. Do I send them to your office?"

"I want to meet them separately. Send Hoover to me first."

"Understood, sir."

With that, Magath left.

* * *

“So, um…” Bertolt muttered, heart thumping. “A-are you nervous?” he asked, hugging his knees tighter in embarrassment.

“Guess so,” Annie responded, throwing another stone at the pond.

Awkward silence dwelled for perhaps too long.

“I… I’m nervous, too.”

Annie turned her head to look at him and examine him thoroughly. She hmph’d, then looked forward at the pond again. “Seems like it.”

Bertolt opened his mouth to say something again, but she interrupted him.

“Why do you insist on talking to me?”

Despite it being forthright, her tone carried no annoyance or malice. She was genuinely curious. While most Warrior candidates tended to leave her alone due to her scary nature, Bertolt was the opposite.

“Oh, um…” he hunched forward to hide his face with his knees. “S-sorry, it’s just that we’ll be deployed on the same mission.”

“That doesn’t even answer my question,” her bored eyes pierced him.

His cheeks flared up.

“Hoover,” they heard a familiar voice call with discipline.

Their eyes simultaneously widened, and they immediately stood up, postures erect and hands behind their backs.

“Sir!” they yelled in unison.

They were prepared to explain they were in leisure time, nevertheless frightened at the sudden appearance of their superior.

“At ease,” Magath commanded, to which both Warriors immediately complied. “Commander Schimana wishes to see you in his office.”

Bertolt’s lips parted in surprise.

“Now, Hoover!” Magath commanded.

“Y-yes!” he wasted no time to bolt, going step-by-step through everything he had done lately. Had he done something wrong? Will they punish him? What if his face pissed off the higher-ups and now they wanted another Warrior to eat him and inherit his Titan? His heart was thumping.

After running in a straight line and constantly turning various corners, he made it to the Commanders’ headquarters. He walked in and saluted every officer, until he reached his destination. He pressed a hand against his chest and sighed shakily, attempting to soothe his desperate heart. He closed his eyes. Once ready, he knocked twice on the door.

“State your name and business,” a hardened voice called out.

“Bertolt Hoover, sir, Warrior candidate, sir! Captain Magath said you wanted to see me, sir!” he yelled, attempting to sound confident, then realised that overdoing the _“sir”_ perhaps ruined his attempt.

“Come in,” he said.

Bertolt rubbed his hand against his shorts to wipe the cold sweat off his palm, and silently opened the door. He closed it, then stood straight and placed his hands behind his back as a salute. The room reeked of vanilla, and he noticed various scented candles around the room. He’d feel cozy if not for the man in front of him.

“Sir!” he called nervously.

“Sit down, Hoover,” the Commander requested, folding his hands after closing down a file.

“Sir,” he said, complying.

His body language indicated how tense he was.

Schimana smiled. “You can relax, Warrior.”

Bertolt silently and shakily exhaled.

“I was looking over your file,” the Commander began, “and found some things of interest.”

Bertolt perked up.

“You’re the Colossal Titan carrier, correct?” he asked the obvious question.

“Yes, sir.”

“How has that worked out for you?”

“I-in what terms, sir?”

“The Colossal, historically, hasn’t been easy to manage,” he stated. “How have you found it? Has it been difficult?”

Bertolt didn’t know what to respond. While he mastered his Titan instantly, he didn’t want to appear arrogant before his superior, yet he also didn’t want to lie to him.

“I-it hasn’t been too difficult, sir.”

“So I’ve heard,” the Commander smiled at him, which somehow made Bertolt less tense. “Reports state you mastered it instantly.”

Bertolt didn’t know what to respond.

“What’s it like?” the Commander asked curiously.

“It’s… hot,” Bertolt looked down, scared to look him in the eye. “It also feels heavy, like something’s dragging me down. But when I release heat to become thinner so I can move faster, it feels like a big relief.”

Schimana chuckled heartily, which startled the young Warrior.

“Tell me, Hoover,” he asked after composing himself. “Why did you enlist?”

Bertolt swallowed, not understanding where the Commander was coming from, or why he was summoned in the first place. Were the higher-ups interviewing the Warriors? Why now, after they’ve already been granted the Titans?

Or… is it possible they were…

Bertolt squinted.

“So my family could have an easy life, sir.”

“Your father’s sick, is that correct?” the Commander asked, sternly this time.

Is it possible they were…

“Yes, sir.”

 _Threatening us?_ Bertolt thought. _Are they asking us why we became Warriors to remind us of what will happen if we fail?_

Tension lingered in the air, but Schimana’s next words lifted it from the boy’s shoulders.

“I see,” he smiled. “I assure you we’ll do our best to provide whatever attention he may require, and your mother and siblings will, too, be tended to. However, I have a favour to ask.”

Bertolt blinked.

“Do try to remember the reason you enlisted when you’re in Paradis. I trust you understand the utmost importance of this mission, and what is at stake not only for you and your family, but Marley and its people as a whole. You’re talented and sharp, are you not? So I trust you’ll be able to put aside your weaknesses to carry out your mission no matter what. If your fellow Warriors stray, I trust you’ll be there to be a firm hand in reminding them of the consequences of failure.”

Bertolt swallowed nervously at how the Commander’s tone gradually became harsher.

“After all,” he drawled, his tone and eyes ruthless, “there is no room for meekness or hesitation.” His piercing stare refused to leave his frightened eyes. “Isn’t that right, Bertolt?”

The use of his name, which would normally be used to break the distance between ranks and make things more personal, simply served to startle him more.

“Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir,” he attempted to sound confident.

“We’re counting on you, Bertolt. Your _family_ is counting on you,” he warned. “You’d do well to remember that.”

The Commander stood up after what felt like an eternity of silence, then offered his hand to Bertolt. “Come,” he said with a kind smile.

Bertolt took his hand, standing up.

The Commander guided him to the window beside his chair, and he walked back towards his desk, almost pulling Bertolt as he never let go of his hand, and rummaged around the drawers on his desk. He found what he was looking for, then went back to Bertolt.

Bertolt’s mouth hung, his eyes widening immediately. “S-sir!?” his voice broke.

“Don’t worry,” the Commander smiled.

Uncaring of the consequences, he held the Commander’s wrist with his other hand and desperately tried to pull away from him, but the man held him in place.

He gritted his teeth in desperation, whimpering, trying to pull back as he saw the man heaten the branding iron with the shape of Marley’s logo against the flame of one of the larger candles.

“It’s okay,” the Commander attempted to comfort. “You’re used to the heat, correct?”

After almost a minute, he finally turned to the frightened boy and held out his arm. “Don’t move,” he pierced him with his gaze.

Bertolt wanted to look away, but couldn’t. His eyes were fixated on his arm. Suddenly, he felt his shirt being buttoned open.

He gasped in pain the moment the heat came in contact with his skin, and squeezed his eyes shut when the Commander tightly pressed the iron against the left side of his chest. The sizzling sound made him sick as he involuntarily let out a scream.

He hyperventilated, shaking. He was suddenly enveloped in a hug by the Commander, his other hand on the back of his head, and heard something being whispered in his ear.

_“Don’t forget where your heart is.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it. I hope I get inspiration and continue this instead of abandoning it like almost everything I write, haha!


End file.
